In The Arms of the Ocean
by WingedWolf121
Summary: Titanic!Au, Cherik. The man in the picture was beautiful, with gentle features and eyes of the brightest blue. They matched the necklace he wore; a necklace worth a quarter of a billion dollars, romantically dubbed The Heart of the Ocean. The artist's initials were penciled in at the edge of the page, a simple EL. They had met on a ship of dreams. Charles/Erik feat Logan and Raven


**A/N: Awhile ago, I saw Titanic. Apart from the fact that it is a FANTASTIC movie (my Mom agrees with me about this. So there, it's not just teenagegirlitis), it gives one the wonderful feeling of knowing that you're crying in public but so is everyone else in the theater (literally, quite literally. The girl's bathroom afterwards was full of people with mascara running down their faces), and the fact that the movie-theater-dude-with-broom told me that everyone cried when he noticed me looking embarrassed. Anyway, I realized that there is not a Titanic!Cherik fic. **

…**okay, to be honest, I've wanted to make Titanic!Cherik since November, when I first saw a trailer for Titanic in theaters, so I'm sort of grateful that no one else tackled it (at least on ffnet. Probably someone on live journal or wherever did. Oh well.). I've been absolutely dying to write this (it was ½ of why I wanted to see the movie so badly) and it's stupidly long, but I think that if you can sit through a 3.5 hour movie, you can read a redonklong oneshot. Please?**

**Disclaimer: Well frankly, if I owned Titanic then the movie wouldn't have been as good, because I couldn't have forced Jack to die. And also Charles and Erik would be together if I owned MARVEL. I didn't even buy the movie tickets to go SEE Titanic myself.**

…**I do own a dvd of X-Men: First Class though. So ha.**

The robot drifted through a silent world. It floated past shards of plate glass with algae clinging to them and foggy steel pipes. The dark waters around it seemed lifeless, though every now and then the beams of pale light it shone on the ship came across a fish. They always darted away, big eyes glaring at the machine as if asking it how it dared desecrate this graveyard.

If machines could speak, it might have inquired as to whether or not it could do much more damage to the grave than had already been done. It floated down corridors with doors blown off the hinges, into rooms inhabited only by faded couches and bits of decayed cloth, and by sand that the robot barely disturbed.

It passed through another doorway, into a more ornate room. This one smacked of lost grandeur, as the light exposed silken sheets and a shattered mantelpiece, one that once could have been the focal point of a room full of luxury. Two arms extended from the robot, brushing away chips of wood and exposing a safe, almost gold in color. That was only rust. It picked up the safe and reversed, returning to the surface with the box.

It left the silent ship for another floating above, and entered into a world of light and celebration.

"We got it!" A young woman whooped. She was tall, and her red hair fell around her shoulders, a shade darker than the rust on the safe. "Scott, we actually got it!"

"I…I know." Another young man, one with dark hair, wearing sunglasses, wasn't grinning wildly. He looked almost shocked. "We actually found it." His face split into a wild grin similar to that of the woman. "Jean, crack it open!"

This ship wasn't nearly so luxurious as the one on the ocean floor - it was a practical ship, built not for pleasure but to serve a job. And it was full of life most of it all crowding around the relic.

"I'm opening it, I'm opening it!" Jean crouched next to it, an electric saw in one of her hands. It's shining blade sliced through the rust, sending a spray of umber into the air. Scott yanked the cork from a champagne bottle with his teeth.

As the door opened, creaking, a cheer arose from the assembly. Scott put aside the bottle and reached in.

Brown water slopped out first, soaking his shirt and staining his face. Scott ignored it, and the slippery papers that came out with it, groping in deeper. He pulled out more paper, all of slick with rust and water.

"Scott?" Jean asked uncertainly.

"It's not here." A groan went up. Scott ran a hand through his hair, leaving streaks of orange. "It could be somewhere else, I suppose. Look through the rest of the rooms, maybe it fell out of someone's pocket."

Still, there was no masking the disappointment in his eyes. Jean sighed and began to gather the papers.

"Kitty, here." She passed them over to another member of the crew. "Clean them off, maybe they'll tell us something." Jean put a hand on Scott's shoulder. "Come on. It's not over yet."

"I know, but…" Scott stared at the empty safe. "Three _years_. I guess I shouldn't have gotten my hopes so high, but I always thought this would be it. This damn safe was supposed to be the key."

"Let's get you cleaned up." Jean patted his shoulder. "Maybe those papers will show something."

"Maybe." But it was obvious from Scott's voice that he didn't believe her words. The dejected crew retreated, leaving the safe to be put into an evidence room and their leaders to recover their fallen spirits.

Scott was pulling on a clean shirt when Kitty burst into his rooms. He flushed.

"Christ Kitty, what part of _door_ to you not understand?"

"You've _got_ to see this." She gestured behind her. "In the lab. Come on!" Scott pulled his shirt on and hurried after her. She yanked him along, dodging past people and through doorways in her haste. Scott found himself being dragged along to the lab, where the pictures lay in chemicals.

Kitty pulled him up to one and pointed. Scott blinked.

It was a drawing of a man. A…well, a rather _naked_ man. He had finely drawn cheekbones and exquisite features, a slight build that had been drawn in long, fine, pencil strokes. One could almost feel the silk of his dark hair by looking at the way his fingers just brushed it. Dark eyelashes lay half over bright blue eyes - they were the only parts of the picture that were colored.

Well. Almost the only parts. They were the same shade of bright blue as the gem in the necklace he wore. A necklace Scott recognized as the necklace Napoleon had once worn, one that had a pure gold chain which was almost worthless in comparison to the diamond it held.

"Christ." Jean said from over his shoulder. "Who the hell is that?"

"Whoever he was, he was certainly well endowed." muttered Kitty. Scott smacked her arm.

"Cover your eyes, you're like twelve." Kitty snorted. Scott tipped his head to the side. "I have no idea who he is, but look what he's wearing!"

"The heart of the ocean." Jean murmured. "But he's about twenty in that, he'd have to be dead by now. If he didn't die when it sank."

"So, we find who he was." Scott said flatly. "If we can trace the diamond, we can trace him."

"I didn't know guys could wear necklaces." commented Kitty, who despite Scott's pleas for her to preserve her innocence, was looking on with interest. "I guess he has the eyes to pull it off."

"Yeah, he's a bit gorgeous." Jean added. Her face softened. "I wonder who drew him like that?"

"Oh, it's got the artist's initials." Kitty grabbed a pair of tweezers and tugged one corner of the paper forward. "E.L., whoever she is. And it's dated 4/14/12, so they must have both been on the Titanic when it sank."

"Maybe we can find the artist." Scott mused. "A lot of the men on the ship died, but she must have been in first class if this picture ended up in that safe, and most of them got out okay."

"I'll put it on our website." Kitty offered. "Should we offer like, a cash reward or something?"

"No." Scott shook his head. "We don't exactly have the funding for a worthwhile one, and I sort of doubt that anyone remembers the man."

And they wouldn't have that funding until _someone_ found the fucking quarter of a billion dollar diamond.

"We've got a press conference soon." Jean checked her watch. "I'll show the pictures as evidence that we're doing something - they at least prove that we're right about the diamond being brought on the ship. That should make our investors give us a bit of breathing room."

* * *

The investors really weren't amenable to giving them much breathing room, not after three years of fruitless hunting for a diamond that very well might have died with Napoleon. Scott was pouring over the pictures again - there were others, not just the guy with the diamond, and they really were drawn with extraordinary skill - when Kitty poked her head into his office.

"Scott? Call for you."

Oh, God. Not the investors again.

"Tell them I'm busy." Scott waved a hand at the pictures. "Pursuing evidence, or something. Does the couch he's lying on look familiar?"

"First of all, telling people you're perving on a bunch of naked people from before WWI probably won't do your reputation any good." Kitty giggled when Scott glared at her. "Anyway, you want to take this one. Trust me."

Scott sighed and got to his feet, making his way to the cabin where they kept the main phone line. Jean was already there, perched on the desk with an incredulous expression on her face as she listened to the person on the line. She waved Scott over.

"Scott, you want to hear this." He picked up the receiver, feeling doom on the horizon.

"Hello?"

"Is the young man who found that picture?" A woman. Well, what had he expected?

"Yes ma'am, this is Scott Summers."

"And you're looking for the heart of the ocean?" Scott froze, glancing at Jean. She smiled dryly. This diamond was _obscure_. He'd even had Kitty Google it before they started on the hunt, and they'd found that whatever information there was on it had never transmitted to the internet.

"Yes ma'am." Scott took the plunge. "Did you know the man wearing it in our picture?"

"It's not _your_ picture. And yes, I did. That was my brother, Charles Xavier." Scott shot an incredulous look at Jean. She shrugged.

"Ma'am, maybe we had better fly you in here."

* * *

Scott made the arrangements.

"Are you insane?" Jean asked for the fifteenth time, as they watched the helicopter descend. "This woman claims she was on the Titanic's maiden voyage. Just by _age_ - "

"She's over 100 years old." Jean scowled up at the sky.

"Well, she's remarkably well preserved if she's prepared to fly a few hundred miles into the middle of nowhere. And honestly, what makes you think she's who she says she is? She could have gone to the same libraries we did." Scott sighed.

"I have a feeling, okay?" Jean rolled her eyes. Scott ignored her, electing to watch the helicopter blades slow down as the craft landed before them. He watched as a young man with floppy black hair hopped out and helped lower a wheelchair.

Raven Wagner descended from the helicopter with tiny, shaking, steps. A cloud of pure white hair floated around her head, as fingers that looked paper thin gripped the handles of the wheelchair. She smiled at Scott and Jean.

"Oh, hello there. This is my grandson, Kurt. He helps me around." She smiled shakily. "May I see my brother?"

"Of course." Scott glanced at Jean. Hopefully, she would notice that this old lady was essentially harmless. Kurt gripped the arms of her wheelchair and helped her along the deck, flashing Scott a grin.

Raven laughed when she saw the portrait.

"What's so funny?" Jean asked.

"Oh, just…I almost didn't believe Charles when he talked about how good Erik's sketches were." She turned misty eyes to the treasure-hunters. "He really was that beautiful. Charles, I mean. Erik didn't exaggerate the details one bit."

"Erik?" Scott asked.

"The one who drew the picture. Erik Lensherr." Raven sighed. "I wish you could have seen a picture of him as well. He was a striking man. They both were."

"Huh." Scott guessed he had just never pictured a guy being the one to draw it. It was too…loving. He could see the picture being drawn by some woman - some _man_ - as Charles posed on the couch, bright blue eyes vaguely amused as the drawer drew slow, adoring lines into the paper, trying to somehow preserve the image in the beauty it deserved. "Were they…"

"Oh, that's a bit complicated." Raven smiled faintly. "This was years and years before the movement, you know, and just because we were on a ship didn't mean someone couldn't find some firewood to burn you at the stake."

Scott shivered.

"But…the diamond." He nodded to it. "Do you know what happened to it?"

"I remember that night." Raven's already misty eyes looked past them all.

"Can you share?" Kitty asked. She plopped down in a chair opposite Raven.

"I remember the whole voyage."

* * *

The ship was called the ship of dreams. It floated in the harbor, shiny and untarnished, full of new sheets and new china, new decks, new furniture, new everything. Even new money, since so many people were getting onboard who, unlike the Xaviers, had not been rich since the Roman Empire fell.

"I don't think it's that impressive." Charles Xavier got out of a car and looked up at it, shading his eyes. Not even the clear blue sky could compare to his eyes. "The metal is a bit too shiny."

"God, you're depressing. Lighten up!" His younger sister poked her head out of the car. She was golden blonde, nothing like her brother's dark mop. Really, Raven and Charles didn't look much like each other. Charles helped her down as she took in the ship. "I think it looks wonderful."

"Hmpf." Charles cast it a disapproving look.

"Frankly, it barely looks longer than the Mauritania." A woman spoke from behind Charles. "Sharon, don't you agree?"

"Oh, shush. You're both impossible to please." Raven held tighter to Charles's arm. She was sixteen years old, he twenty. The two women behind were elder - Sharon Xavier, their mother, had grey in her hair. Emma Frost did not.

"I suppose our house will be quite impressive then." Emma said. Her eyes roved over Charles, taking in the fact that Raven had already claimed his arm. "Come. Let's board before we get dirt on our dresses from this street."

Emma Frost was…not typical. She was beautiful, that was for sure. She had blonde hair, more platinum than Raven's sunny gold. Her eyes were black, and she had high, striking features. She walked as if she knew where she was getting to, and why, and she would kick down anyone who got in her way with her thousand dollar leather boots.

She was relatively new money, but she wasn't as new as the man boarding behind them. You'd have heard of him, I'm sure. James Logan Howlett?

Well, he was very new money. He struck gold in Canada of all places, and he ended up famous as "Ironback Logan", for his unbreakable bones and for his railroads. They stretched all over Canada, he was one of those tycoon sorts. That legacy of an iron spine though, that started on Titanic's voyage. But for all that he was at least as rich as Emma Frost, she wouldn't deign to step on his feet. Emma Frost liked to pretend her grandparents hadn't grown up comfortably middle class.

"Yes Emma." Charles said automatically. He pulled Raven closer. "Mother, we're not difficult to satisfy. I just don't think a ship that's never even left port is something to be so excited about."

He heard a grunting noise from behind them that suggested Ironback Logan agreed.

"You're impossible!" Raven shared a look with her mother. "Come on Charles, wait until you see the inside." She tugged her brother up the gangplank, pacing them both ahead of the other ladies.

Each step closer to the ship Raven took felt like an adventure. Charles felt like he was walking up death row.

Once they were in America, they were throwing the big gala to celebrate his and Emma's engagement. Taking the boatride back with her was supposed to symbolize something, for his mother and for Shaw, about he and Emma starting out a new life together. It filled Charles with panic and the desire to leap off the boat, and run back to his libraries at Oxford where he could read books and shut out most of the high society world.

Peace and quiet in a library while he was married to Emma? Heh. Charles wasn't a forceful man, he'd never raised a hand against someone in anger in his entire life. Emma Frost, on the other hand, was the woman at the table whom every other woman regarded with a combination of envy and dread. Envy at the beauty, and dread that her eyes would fall on them and a quick jab would be directed at them, something to wreck their outfit or make them doubt how they were raising their children.

Charles dreaded marrying her. It felt like the first step into an unstoppable train of events - or perhaps the first pistons firing in an unsinkable ship - that ended with him old, broken, and miserable.

"Come on!" Raven turned to him, eyes aglow. "I think our rooms are this way!"

* * *

The fact that it was a bright day didn't register with the people playing cards in the pub. The windows were far too grimy, for a start, to let in any real sun, and even if they weren't, the players were too focused to notice inconsequential things like weather.

"Show your cards." One of the players announced. He was tall, though you couldn't tell it, hunched over the table as he was, and dark haired. His eyes were fixed on the pile in the center of the table, where there was a stack of coins and two sheets of paper.

Erik didn't really care about the coins, but he _wanted_ one of those tickets.

"Nein." The first player admitted. He looked pale. One of those tickets had been his.

"Nein." growled the next. His expression suggested that his friend, who had put their tickets into the pot, was going to die soon.

"Zwei Paar." The man to Erik's right said. He laid down the cards.

A wide, rather sharky, grin broke out on Erik's face. The entire table, and all the onlookers, cringed.

"Volles Haus." Erik declared. The men who had just lost their tickets groaned. Erik grabbed the tickets and threw one to his partner. "Come on Janos, we're leaving for America on the Titanic!"

* * *

Erik was, by habit, prone to people watching. The lower deck was the perfect place for it - he could observe the dogs of the rich being walked (and shitting all over _his_ deck, thanks a lot), mothers with their children, other men wandering along watching the waves.

"What're you up to?" Janos flopped down next to him. Erik held up his sketchbook. "That again?"

"What did you expect?" Erik finished the lace edging on a woman's sleeve.

"I doubt you'll get any more customers in America than you did in Germany. Or Paris. Or London." Janos commented. He put a hand over his eyes and peered up. "Leave art to the first class passengers."

"They buy, Janos. They don't create." Erik looked up to where Janos was peering and, caught his breath. There was a young man leaning against the railing up there, looking back towards England. The light reflected off his dark hair and illuminated his face - he was pale, but not so that he looked ill. Even from another deck, Erik could see that he had blue eyes.

"I hope you're not trying to capture that for a sketch." Janos commented. "No one poses like that for long. See?" A blonde woman hurried up to him, grabbing one of his arms. Erik watched with a frown as she hauled him away. "Erik? I hope you're not having those thoughts about that boy. This ship will rest on the ocean floor before you bugger _him._"

"Shut up." Erik flipped to a fresh page of his notebook.

Erik was half asleep next time he saw that man. He rushed past the bench Erik was lying on, waking Erik up fully. Erik was never sure why he had the compulsion to follow whoever had just run past him.

* * *

It was an interesting feeling, free falling. Sort of like standing in the middle of a room of people and screaming, and knowing that not one of them could hear you over the sound of their clinking crystal wineglasses and high talk, and even they could hear you, no one would care.

Charles didn't know how comparable that was to drowning, though. But then again, perhaps he would hit the churning wake, and die on impact. It was certainly far enough down.

He hung onto the back of the boat. His feet were planted on last rung of the railing, and his hands clamped to the topmost. He hung there staring over waters as dark as the night sky, except for where the rudders churned out white froth.

"Oh, joy." Charles nearly jumped out of his skin. He twisted around to see a man standing not five feet away, dressed in the clothing of a lower classmen.

"Don't come any closer!" Charles yelped. The man held up his hands.

"I'm not." He sighed.

"I'll jump." Charles warned. Or, more accurately, he would fall.

"I thought that might be why you were standing there." The man flicked his cigarette to the side. "Erik Lensherr."

"I don't have to give you my name." Charles said harshly.

"So you don't. But I would appreciate it." Erik pulled off his jacket. The cold bit into his arms.

"W-what are you doing?" Charles asked. Erik began unlacing his boots.

"When one swims, one doesn't want to be weighed down by a heavy coat and boots." Charles's brow furrowed, and he twisted around, ignoring the uncomfortable pressure it cast on his forearms.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if you jump, I've got to jump in after you don't I." Erik sighed.

"You'll _drown_."

"I'm a strong swimmer." Erik glanced over the water and grimaced. "Though I'm dreading that cold."

"Cold?" Charles stopped looking at Erik. His gaze had returned to the sea.

"The water out here? It's below freezing, for sure. I almost drowned back in Germany once. That's my home country, it's in northern Europe - "

"I know where Germany is, thanks."

"I just thought I should clarify, since your state of mind right now doesn't seem to be perfect." Erik continued. "Anyway, I fell through the ice on a lake, and it was cold. It was so cold I couldn't even feel that it was cold, just that everyone on my body there were little needles pressing into my flesh. You can't think once you're that cold. So yes, I'm dreading it."

"Why? You don't have to jump." Charles stared out over the waters.

"Well, you seem to planning on it. I'm hardly letting you drown." Erik pulled off his other shoe and shucked his under jacket.

"You really should. It's um, rather my intention."

"I gathered that. But I'm part of events now. I can't just stand by and watch some random man die." Erik shrugged.

"Are you insane?" Charles demanded.

"Not enough to hang off the back of a boat." Charles made an amused noise.

"My name is Charles. Charles Xavier."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance." Erik moved up behind him and touched his hand. Charles released the railing to shake with Erik. He had strong hands, whoever Erik was. "I hope that we'll have a long and wonderful friendship."

Charles giggled. The sound was on the edge of hysteria. "Not likely."

"I thought I made it clear that I don't intend on letting you die." Erik hadn't released Charles's hand. "You would make that far easier by letting me pull you back to safety."

"No. And let go of me, or I-I might pull you over." Charles swallowed.

"You won't jump."

"I won't?"

"You would have done it already." Erik said softly. "Now let me pull you back. I'm afraid it might get a bit more intimate than is proper, but being lost forever in the icy depths of the Atlantic is far worse in a social view."

"You don't know enough about me to know whether I'm going to jump!"

"No, but I know that you'll postpone it just to have a discussion with a stranger about nothing, and I know that you've given me your name, which means that when the crew starts asking where you've disappeared to, I'm going to tell them."

"There won't be much they could do about it." But Charles's heart plunged down even further. That would ruin the good name of the Xavier family, strike them down from high society. All he had wanted to do was _die_, dammit.

"Ah yes, but you see, that won't be the problem. The problem will be that, since I was a witness, they'll think that I should have intervened to save your life, or called a crew member to throw you float. I'd be arrested."

"Oh." Charles cringed. "I'm sorry. Could you perhaps not speak up?"

"And lie to the authorities? I would never." There was something like amusement in Erik's voice. "But I can tell you're a kind person, and you wouldn't do that to me. So live for my continued freedom, if nothing else."

"O-okay." Charles turned around slowly, never letting go of Erik's hand. The other hand gripped him by the waist, securing him. Charles slowly began to clamber over the railing.

Then his foot slipped.

"Charles!" Erik was yanked halfway over the railing, still clinging to Charles's hand. Charles yelled at the top of his lungs. He knew it was just his imagination, but he could almost feel droplets of icy water pattering on his legs.

"Erik! Don't let go!"

"I won't! Give me your other hand!" Charles grasped Erik's wrist with it. "Now start pulling yourself up, come on!" Charles's feet kicked in the open space. There was nothing for him to pull himself up with. "Use your arms, for God's sake!"

"I hardly think he's on my side at present!" Charles yelled back. But he obeyed, hauling himself up until Erik's other hand, the one that had been grasping the railing for dear life, could get to his armpit and _pull_.

The momentum carried them both over the railing. Charles hit the ground on his back, blinking up into a pair of grey green eyes.

What a handsome man. Charles cocked his head, wondering if this was perhaps a dream.

"Oi! You two!" No. His dreams of handsome men being on top of him didn't include burly crewmembers. Erik scrambled off him, retreating to the railing.

"Charles!" Oh, that was Raven. He pushed himself up as she flung herself down next to him, tugging the jacket he'd left in the dining hall over his shoulders. "What happened? You just disappeared!"

"How dare you." Emma Frost's voice managed to be colder than the air around them. Charles could feel all of his insides shriveling up. He was ruined, he'd ruined the Xavier name, ruined _everything_. "How dare you assault a First Class passenger?"

"Huh?" Erik stared at them. Emma glared down at him.

"Men, take him away. Lock him in steerage, they can arrest him once we reach New York." Charles scrambled to his feet.

"Wait!" The guards, who had somehow already strapped handcuffs on Erik, paused. "H-he didn't attack me."

"Sure looked like it." rumbled one of the guards.

"H-he saved my life." Charles tried to stop his voice from shaking.

"I beg your pardon?" Emma said.

"Charles had leaned over the deck, trying to get a proper view of the propellers." Erik's deep voice entered the conversation. "He overbalanced, and I pulled him back. I was checking his vitals when you came in, to be sure that he wasn't suffering from shock."

"Oh." Emma sniffed. "Charles…"

"Yes, that's what happened." Charles said quickly. He shot Erik a grateful look. "That's quite what happened."

"Well, I suppose I owe you some sort of reward." Emma fished in her purse and brought out a crumpled note of paper as the guards uncuffed Erik. Erik eyed the twenty, his eyes cold.

"I don't need your money." Emma's expression when she glanced at his clothing suggested she felt he certainly did. Charles stepped forward.

"Emma, this man saved my life. I think he deserves more than a bit of money." Charles flashed Erik a shaky smile. "Come dine with us tomorrow evening. You can tell us about the wonders of North Germany."

"As you wish." Erik said, his eyes on Charles.

* * *

"Excuse me." Scott broke in. "Are you saying that they looked at a couple of men, one half undressed, lying on top of each other, and they thought they were _fighting_?"

"I don't think you quite understand." Raven said. "This was nineteen twelve. There was no pride movement. There were none of those bills that keep going around Congress, or human rights campaigns. The very idea that two _men_ would be engaging in an activity like that, and in _public_…" she smiled, not without sadness. "I doubt it even entered the guards minds, and if it did, then they shied from it. It was not an allegation to be brought up lightly."

"Keep going." Kitty pressed.

* * *

"I think that's a marvelous idea." Raven proclaimed. "It'll do us good to have a new face at our dinner table."

"If you say so." Emma said. If she disagreed, she didn't say so. She couldn't really argue with her fiancée, not in public, and not when the man had almost died. "Charles, I assume that you are unharmed?"

"Yes." Charles said.

"I think you sound faint. Come on Charles, we can have some brandy back in your rooms." Raven dragged him away. They reached the well lit corridors, where servants bowed their heads as the closest thing to royalty there was left in America passed them and heat pressed in on all sides from a hundred fires.

Raven pushed Charles into his rooms and took a scotch bottle down from the mantelpiece.

"What happened?" She asked.

"Nothing, it was just as Erik said." Charles shook his head at the offer of scotch. "I was being careless, and it was fortunate indeed that someone was on hand to keep me from disappearing."

"Oh." Raven harbored her own suspicions about her brother, but she knew better than to voice them aloud. Besides, she knew nothing for sure, and certainly knew nothing of the swirling pool of misery that her brother was already drowning in. "Well…don't be careless again, alright?"

"I shall do my utmost." Charles smiled at her, and Raven saw that it hadn't reached his eyes. She wondered how many smiles in the last years hadn't reached his eyes, and whether or not she should have noticed.

"And if there's anything I can do to…" Raven didn't know what she was offering, whether it be an offer to tell her what had really happened that night, or to bare his soul of other sins. Either way, Charles shook his head.

"I'm fine Raven. Truly." He rose and kissed her forehead. "Now get to bed. I know we've not much to do on this ship, but that's no excuse for staying up all night and being exhausted come morning."

"Yes Charles." Raven left, shutting the door behind her with a soft click. Neither she nor Charles, nor even Erik or Emma, got a proper sleep that night. Beneath them, the big ship's engines worked away, as more and more coal was poured into them and pistons moved faster and faster, all to make a record time for a journey across the Atlantic.

* * *

"So. I grew up in Germany, but from there I've gone far and wide traveling wherever the wind blows." Erik finished. He was strolling along the deck with Charles, eying the various upper class passengers who had also decided today was a good day for a walk. "And you?"

"Oh, my life isn't very interesting." Charles shrugged.

"Well, it must have something quite compelling about it." Erik said. Charles flushed.

"I just wanted to thank you for your discretion last night." He stumbled over his words. "It was…I mean, I know you must think me ridiculous, rich boy with rich problems…"

"No. I was wondering what on earth could be a great enough burden to make death seem preferable to facing the issue." Erik said quietly. "Especially for someone who seems so strong."

"Oh, I'm really not." Charles laughed nervously. "It's just that…do you know that blonde woman, the one who tried to pay you?"

"Yes." Erik refrained from commenting on her demeanor.

"When we get to the states, I'm marrying her." Erik's steps faltered for a second.

"Oh. Well, congratulations. She's a beautiful woman."

"I suppose she is." Charles kicked at a speck of dust, not looking at Erik. "I'd rather not though."

"Why?"

"I don't know. It just doesn't appeal to me." Charles mumbled. "What do you care?"

"Fair point. Excuse me for making conversation." Charles sniffed.

"Well, since I've thanked you, I'll be leaving." He turned. "No. This is my deck, you can leave."

"I don't see anyone making me." Erik grinned. "I do believe I'm conducting myself with more propriety than you are."

"No, that's because your smile is scaring everyone." Charles snapped back. "What's that anyway?" He snatched Erik's sketchbook from where it rested in the crook of Erik's arm and began to flip through it. "These are…these are actually very good."

"Thank you." Erik leaned over Charles's shoulder.

"In fact…" Charles flushed suddenly as a picture of a nude woman popped up. "Oh."

"Marie. She was homeless on the streets of Paris, carrying eczema. Couldn't be touched, so she was happy to be paid for posing." Charles coughed and flipped to another portrait. "And that was Magda. Another prostitute, they're all over the place in Paris."

"You've got quite a few pictures of her. Were you carrying on a love affair?" Charles asked lightly.

"No. But her hands were as close to perfection as I've been able to find." Erik grinned. "If I had any feelings for the woman, they were solely confined to the area from her wrists onward."

"That's not what most men say about prostitutes." Charles flipped to another page and blushed.

"That's Remy. He was a thief, a Cajun who somehow found himself in the city of love." Erik chuckled. "He was a good card player, used to stake himself in the game when he didn't have money."

"Himself?" Charles was still blushing as he turned to another page of Remy. "So tell me, did you have an affair with his hands too?"

"No, not with his hands." Erik glanced down at Charles. Shocked blue eyes met his then jerked away.

"These are very good sketches." Charles got up and pushed the book at Erik. "Now, with all due respect, I need to get back to my sister and my fiancée. They're probably looking for me."

"Wait up." Erik hurried after Charles. "I don't even know where I'm supposed to meet you for this dinner."

"The grand dining hall." Charles leaned over the railing and pointed downwards. "If you can see that door over there…"

"Careful." Erik let a hand rest on Charles's back, ignoring the heat that raced from his fingers down his back. "We don't want you overbalancing again."

"I don't think there's much danger of that." Charles kept blushing. "But if you go through the door, and then two corridors, take the first left, you reach the grand rooms. And of course, a crewman can always give you directions."

"I'm sure I can find my way about. I've been in more than a few twisting paths." Erik's mouth twitched up. Charles glanced at him.

"You've had adventures?"

"Of sorts." Erik wouldn't necessarily call being chased by the police through Berlin while he was half naked an adventure, but it was interesting nevertheless. "You haven't?"

"No. Not really." Charles's gaze was misty. "I would like to. To…I don't know, go to Africa and help the natives, or join the crusade for the rights of the aboriginals and _really_ help, not just sit in a manor a thousand miles away and read articles."

Erik laughed. "You think you could do that?"

"I think I could try!" Charles glared at him. "I don't insult your dreams, Erik, I'd appreciate it if you didn't deride mine."

"That wasn't my intention." Erik said quietly. "Tell me, what would you like to do once you were in Africa or India, or wherever you would go?"

"Write, I think." Charles sighed. "About their causes. And I don't even have to go to India, not at first. First I would just like to go somewhere where I don't have to act like…I don't know. Just somewhere."

"Charles!" Charles jerked back from the railing, throwing Erik's arm off him. Emma and Raven were coming, with Charles's mother and her lawyer, a Mr. Shaw. Shaw seemed deep in conversation with another man, one who looked unimpressed by the whole thing.

"Oh, hello Raven, Emma. Mother." Charles didn't even look at Shaw. "What is it?"

"Well, my dear, I was missing your company." Emma's eyes latched onto Erik. "You'll have plenty of time to thank Mr. Lensherr at dinner."

"Right. Coming, dear." Charles shot Erik a tired smile. "I'll see you at dinner Erik."

"I look forward to it." Erik watched Charles leave, Emma on his arm.

"_You're_ dining with _them._" The man who had been talking to Shaw asked, a hint of incredulity in his voice. He was wearing the beautiful suits of the upper class men, but his rather uncouth brown hair and weathered face spoke of a different upbringing.

"As it happens, I was invited." Erik said coldly. The man grunted.

"Boy, they're going to eat you alive." Erik stiffened. "James Logan Howlett."

"Erik Lensherr. And I think I can handle myself." Logan snickered.

"You don't know that world, and you sure as hell don't look the part." Erik scowled. He quite liked his lower class clothing. More importantly, the clothes on his back and his sketchbook were the only things he owned. "Come on. My son back at home is about your size, and having a decent suit should at least stop you from being blocked at the doors."

So it was that Erik found himself in an elaborate set of upper class rooms, being given advice by a Canadian railroad tycoon.

"Act like you're part of it. They can't keep track of everyone's ancestry, not when there are so many 'new money' people about. Look down on people like you're going to your second castle, one built on the backs of the steerage passengers. Act like your suits might rip because there's so much gold weighing down the pockets." Logan thumped his back. "Metaphorically speakin', of course. Nobody carries around gold nuggets."

"Right." Erik straightened his back and peered into the mirror. "It doesn't fit half badly."

"Knew it." Logan smirked into the mirror.

"Might I ask why, exactly, you're loaning it to me?"

"Because it's a chance to infuriate that magnificent bastard Sebastian Shaw, and the bunch of bitches he seems to attract, bub." Logan popped his knuckles, and Erik would swear he saw claws. "Now shut up and go piss off some richies."

* * *

Erik must have been nervous at the thought of attending the sort of party they hosted on the Titanic that night. It was held in rooms where the very walls seemed gilded in gold, where the chandeliers above glittered with thousands of crystals, where no man or woman there save him was worth less than a million dollars. There was old money drifting about in groups glaring down their noses at new, there was new money laughing, there were servants in tuxedos. There was laughter that spilled over the decks with the golden light.

He did not show it. Erik descended the staircase like he owned the boat.

It likely helped that he had an utterly unimpressed guide.

"Chandeliers don't carry the light nearly as well as a gas lamp would." Logan grumbled as he walked down next to Erik. "And the stairs are so flat you'd think that they were meant for bicycles."

Erik caught sight of Charles at the bottom. Charles was standing next to one of the pillars talking with his sister. Both were dressed appropriately for the occasion, looking as perfectly like old money as it was possible to look.

He quickened his pace.

"And if they hadn't bothered with all the fancy paneling…" Logan stopped talking when he noticed that he had lost his young friend's attention. He snorted. "Fine. Go talk to the pretty boy."

Erik probably didn't even hear him. He hurried down, as Charles turned and saw him. The other man's face lit up.

"I must say Erik." Charles stared at him. "You could almost pass for a gentleman."

"You look stunning." Erik commented. Raven's eyebrows rose. "Both of you." Erik added for her benefit. "Some party."

"It is." Raven said. She flashed him a grin. "Want a guide to the new and the old?"

"Raven." Charles said. He shot her a look. Raven seemed to resist temptation to grin, and floated away to speak with her mother. "So, Erik, what do you think of us?"

"I think that this looks like a lot of money." Erik said. "And that's exactly how it's supposed to look."

"Sounds about right." Charles said. His lips twitched. "Come on, we're being led in for dinner."

Erik was seated next to Charles, thankfully. He'd never seen that many pieces of silverware in one table setting in his entire life, nor could he figure out what the difference was between any of them.

"Work your way inward." Charles muttered to him. Erik flashed him a grateful smile.

"Where do you live, Lensherr?" Asked Charles's mother. She eyed his suit. Erik guessed that she hadn't expected him to show up looking so much like her kind.

"I don't have an address." Erik shrugged. "I prefer to travel. Free as the wind, you might say."

"Well, how do you finance it?" Raven asked. Erik saw nothing but genuine curiosity on her face.

"I work wherever I am." Erik replied. He was sure that working was a concept quite foreign to all of these people. "And I gamble, occasionally. My ticket here came in a game of poker."

"Really?" Raven's eyes glowed.

"That's rather unwise, counting on luck." Emma mused. "Lady Fortune is fickle. A true man, I should think, makes his own luck."

"Well you see, I _do_ make my own luck." Erik said. He smirked at her. "I saw the other guy's cards." Charles and Logan both laughed.

"And you find such a ruthless, pitiful, existence, to be pleasing?" Emma inquired. Logan shot her the stink eye.

"I do, in fact. I have my sketchpad and the clothes on my back with me when I wake up, and air to breathe. I don't need anything but that to be happy. Life is a gift, Miss Frost. Unlike some people, who prefer to lock themselves in a cage, I don't intend on wasting mine." Erik could see Charles watching him, a strange look in his eyes. "You learn to take life as it comes at you. I make each day count."

"What an inspiring statement." Charles said. He raised his wineglass. "To making each day count."

The rest of the table echoed the toast. Erik dug into the food, listening as the rest of the people began to speak. He found that most of their commentary was…bland. For all the discussions about politics and the world and educated things, not one person was basing a thing off personal experience, or talking about doing a thing other than perhaps sponsoring a charity.

"Charles." He said quietly. "You want to go to a _real_ party?"

* * *

The situation below decks was as different from first class as could be. Where in first class there was shining gold, here there was wood. Rather than diamond chandeliers, there were lamps in the corners. The tables didn't have starched white tablecloths, they were already stained. And instead of false laughter, the lower rooms roared with genuine responses to bawdy jokes.

"Janos!" Erik called. Charles looked around nervously. This was very much not his world.

"Erik!" Janos waved at him. "Donde has estado?"

"Un partido malo." Erik pulled Charles next to him. "Charles, Janos. Janos, meet my new friend."

"Pleased." Janos bowed elaborately. He grinned at Erik. "You, Lensherr, will never stop impressing me."

"Erik!" A little Hispanic girl ran up to them.

"Charles, sit down, have a beer. Watch Janos lose all his money." Erik grabbed his girl's hands. "I have a little lady who needs a partner."

Charles burst out laughing as Erik swung out onto the floor with the little girl, rollicking to the music. Erik arched an eyebrow at Charles as he drained the glass of beer Janos had passed to him.

"What?" Charles challenged him. "You think that my family doesn't drink?"

Erik raised his hands. "Angel, you're going to have to find another partner. I'm going to teach Charles how to move before his head gets so foggy I have to carry him back to the cabin." Angel pouted. "Hey. You're still my best girl."

She grinned and hugged his legs before darting away. Erik grabbed Charles.

"Oh, no, Erik - " Charles protested.

"Janos!" Erik called. "Get them to give us a tune that doesn't sound like cats dying!"

"Si!" Erik began to whirl on the floor with Charles, who was laughing too hard to do much more than follow Erik's movements. The floor and the people around them seemed to blur, as the alcohol made Charles's feet light. He was dancing before he knew it.

* * *

Charles slouched in his chair, massaging his forehead with his fingers. His head was aching, and the light streaming into the windows of their private dining room made it pound ever harder.

"I was surprised you didn't make an appearance after dinner yesterday." Emma commented. She was dressed in white and seemed to speak unnecessarily loudly. Charles did not meet her eyes.

"I was tired." He said softly. He sipped at his tea.

"I suppose that staying up and waltzing about steerage would do that to a person." Emma said coldly. Charles winced. "My man's report was most interesting."

"So Shaw was following us." Whatever had possessed his mother to hire that man…

"I expect that your behavior shall, from now on, be more befitting to one of your rank." Emma said. She began to cut her meat. "You are to be my husband."

"Shouldn't that mean I command you?" Charles asked wearily. Emma's harsh laugh cut into his ears.

"Think, dear, which of us has more to gain from this arrangement." Emma's eyes flashed at him. "Pull a trick like that again, Xavier, and I'll break this engagement myself. I will leave your family in the dust. Are we absolutely clear?"

"Yes." Charles said quietly. He rose. Emma didn't look at him as he left for his chambers.

* * *

There was no peace, not even there. No sooner had Charles gotten there and begun to change his waistcoat than Shaw entered. Charles froze.

"Charles." Shaw paced around him. "You weren't in the smoking room."

"You know perfectly well where I was." Charles said softly. He began to put on his jacket, deliberately not looking at the man. "And you know that I did nothing."

"You would be wise to keep it that way, young master." Shaw stepped close to him and grabbed his jaw, forcing Charles's chin up. Charles stared at him, unable to hide the fear in his eyes. "Your mother has managed to drink away what little of your fortune your father didn't fling into mad science experiments. If you don't marry that girl, the bank will foreclose on your pretty little Westchester manor the second your feet hit American soil."

"I know." Charles croaked out. Shaw didn't let go.

"Your _perversions_ are not welcome aboard this ship, and they will not be tolerated when you marry." Shaw glared down at him. "If you'd rather be kissing your butler, you'll keep it to yourself and bed your wife despite."

"I…" A bit of rebellion entered Charles's eyes. "I don't even like her."

"I assure you, she feels the same for you." Shaw dropped him. "But you'll marry her for her money, and she'll marry you for your bloodline. Your little sister will have the opportunity to attend a college of her choice."

"Yes sir." Charles whispered.

"Unless you would prefer to go against God and the law just to race after a man without a penny to his name, abandoning your family and everything else with it?" Shaw asked. Charles shook his head. "Smart boy. Your family wants you with them to walk along the decks. Get to them."

* * *

"Hey, Charles?" Raven asked. They were walking along the deck behind Sharon and Emma. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Charles said. He found it easiest to ignore his problems in the sunny air with his sister with him.

"Does it seem to you like there aren't very many lifeboats?" Raven tipped her head at one of them. "I've been counting, and it seems like there are barely half."

"I don't really know." Charles frowned. "I can run the numbers, if you'd like. But I doubt we're in danger of the ship sinking."

Raven giggled. "That's true enough. But indulge me, just for the sake of it."

"Whatever you want." Charles promised. Suddenly, someone grabbed his arm and was pulling him away. He recognized the touch. "_Erik!_"

"If you'll excuse us for a second, Raven." Erik said. She watched Erik drag her brother through a door. Raven leaned against the railing and resisted the great temptation to eavesdrop.

"Erik!" Charles hissed. They were alone in the room. It looked to be some sort of gymnasium and it was deserted, all of the wealthy patrons out on deck. "You can't just spring on me like that, what if someone saw?"

"You worry too much." Erik touched Charles's cheek. "Don't marry Frost."

"W-what?" Charles stared at him.

"Get off the boat with me, instead." Erik said softly. "Leave them all behind. You know as well as I do that you'll be miserable if you go with them. You'll spend your whole life wishing you had the courage to run when you had the chance."

"I can't." Charles shook his head. "Erik, I love her."

It rang false to both of them.

"What we have is a thousand times more real." Erik said. "I don't have more than ten dollars and a sketchpad to my name but I know how the world works, I can get along. I can take you to India, I can give you your freedom."

"No, you can't." Charles turned his face away.

"Stay and you're going to die. Oh, not at first, because you have so much strength, but it won't take long. You'll burn out after a few years."

"You don't have to save me, Erik." Charles said. He couldn't look Erik in the eyes. If he did, he could not say what he would do.

"That's up to you, I know. But I'm invested now." Charles pulled away.

"Raven will be waiting for me." He said. Charles fled the darkened gym for Raven, still leaning against the railing counting lifeboats.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing." Charles said. He took a deep breath. "Nothing at all.

* * *

That of course, had been an utter lie. Charles sat in the dining hall amidst the groups of other well dressed passengers and played with his food in total misery. Raven held up his part of the conversation.

"Charles?" She said softly as his mother began to talk with Emma, who was ignoring both the Xavier siblings. "What did Erik say?"

"Nothing." She squeezed his hand.

"You should go find him." Charles blinked at her. He'd been trying not to watch an old couple bicker with each other.

"What do you mean?" Raven smiled slightly.

"You're happier with him. I can manage fine on my own, Charles." He stared at her. "I can't stand seeing you miserable. _Go._"

"Excuse me." Charles got to his feet. "I have to go."

Raven smiled as he walked out.

* * *

Charles found him at the tip of the boat, watching the prow cut the water.

"Erik?" He turned to look at Charles. Charles was without his jacket, just in a white shirt with the wind blowing his hair around him. "I…I changed my mind."

"Give me your hand." Charles took Erik's outstretched hand, letting Erik pull him up to the railing. "Close your eyes. Now, step up onto the railing."

"That often doesn't end well for me." Charles murmured. Erik took his other hand, as Charles stepped up all the same.

"Both feet." Charles wobbled. Erik, behind him, held him firm. "Keep your eyes closed, don't peek. Hold on, keep your eyes closed." Erik sighed. "Do you trust me."

"I trust you." Erik lifted Charles's arms. He still held Charles's hands, loosely. Erik dropped his hands, so that Charles was outstretched with nothing before him.

"Now, open your eyes." Charles opened them and gasped. The wind blew his hair out of his eyes. It seemed to lift him.

"I-I'm flying. Erik, I'm _flying._" Erik chuckled and pressed his cheek against Charles's neck, his arms securely wrapped round the other man's waist. "I'm flying!"

Charles turned his head so he could look at Erik. There was a gentle gratitude and adoration in his eyes that no one could match, as he closed the gap between them and kissed Erik. They shifted position, so that Charles could wrap his arms around Erik's neck.

* * *

"That was the last time the Titanic ever saw daylight." Raven recalled. She sighed. "I was in the dining room, I remember, talking about shares in Alaska. I can't even remember the exact moment the light faded, it seemed to inconsequential."

"You didn't…" Jean didn't seem to have the words.

"No one knew. No one sensed that disaster was coming." She smiled. "Well, except perhaps Charles, and he thought it would be his own personal disaster. He never thought the ship would sink that night."

"What happened next?" Scott asked.

* * *

"Erik?" Erik blinked and tore his gaze away from the wall. They had moved to Charles's sitting room. Charles laughed. "Unable to look away from my artwork?"

"It's beautiful."

"Thank you." Charles said in amusement. "I can't claim credit, I only picked it out. Raven and I my mother both think the paintings I choose to hang are hideous."

"Fools." Erik looked at him. "What did you want me to see?"

"This." Charles held up a massive blue diamond. It swung slowly on a golden chain, seeming to draw all the light in the room. Erik whistled. "The Heart of the Ocean. It's really the only thing my family has that's of any value now. Inherited all the way from Napoleon. He used to wear it to show his imagined dominion over the oceans, I believe."

"It's impressive." Erik said.

"I want you to draw me wearing it." Charles paused. "And nothing else."

Erik flushed. "I can manage that."

"I'd hoped." Charles disappeared into his room and Erik began shifting furniture. He'd need the perfect pens, just to try and capture Charles's face, let alone the rest of his body. Erik picked out a shade of blue and smiled to himself. He'd need to mix for Charles's eyes.

"These aren't exactly ideal conditions." Erik called.

"I'm sure you've worked under worse." Charles stepped out of the room. Erik stopped completely. Charles was just wearing the necklace and a dark blue kimono, so his collarbone and the lines of his calves were visible.

"On the couch, please." Erik said. Charles smiled and disrobed. Erik let his eyes travel over Charles's body, trying his best to look from a detached viewpoint. Too attached and he would have Charles right there on the couch.

"Like this?" Charles lay on his back. Erik nodded.

"Put your arm up." Charles did so. It exposed clean lines of very light muscle. "Move your legs a bit up." Charles did so too, his cheeks pink. It left his genitals full in view where they rose out of his pubic hair. Erik decided he would start with the feet and work up to there.

The room was quiet as Erik worked. The hearth fire crackled. Erik's pencils scratched across the paper as he slowly tried to capture every exquisite line of Charles's body. The man was utter perfection, of gentleness and soft curves, then sharp defining lines.

His eyes and his face took as long as the rest of his body combined. Erik found himself mixing twenty shades of blue for those eyes, until they were as bright as the sky above them at noon and as deep as the waters below.

Charles watched him the entire time. His lashes were lowered - Erik was glad, it gave him a chance to capture their thickness - and his mouth smiling just a bit. His pose didn't waver. Charles could have watched Erik work for a hundred years and never had to move.

"Done." Erik finally proclaimed. "You can move now."

"Oh, good." Charles shook his arm and moved so he was kneeling on the couch. "Does it always take such a long time?"

"No." Erik smiled at him. "Only when my subject is especially difficult to capture."

"And are you content with your work?" Charles asked.

"I am." Charles got up, picking the kimono off the floor and shrugging it back on. He didn't bother to belt it, just got up and bent over to look. Erik blushed and held the sketchbook over his lap.

"Do I really look like that?" Charles asked. Erik tipped his head to look at Charles.

"It isn't nearly beautiful enough." Charles blushed. "Charles, you defy the night sky in your looks."

"Thank you." He bent to kiss Erik. "You, though I could never capture it on paper, are more handsome than the sun."

"Let me get dressed." Charles said. Erik handed him the sketch. "What do I owe you?"

"I did that for pleasure." Erik responded. Charles laughed and put it in the safe, with the necklace. He slipped into the bedroom and pulled on clothing. Erik paced around the sitting room, his heart pounding. His rooms, he knew, would be deserted at this time of night. And if he put a bit of clothing on the door, no one would enter…

"Erik?" Charles was dressed again, in the doorway. He blushed. "Would you like to, um…"

There was sudden noise at the door. They both looked to it, and then at each other.

"Shaw." Charles muttered. "I would bet my life on it."

"Run?"

* * *

"This fellow is tough for a lawyer." Erik muttered to Charles. They were leaning against a wall in steerage. They had run there, Charles letting Erik lead them through the various twists and turns.

"I'm not sure what he did before he got his degree." Charles admitted. "But he masterminds everything in the Xavier household and in the Frost's accounts. I believe Emma keeps him around just to keep the less reputable people away from her property."

"Oh, like me then?" Erik pulled Charles closer. Charles giggled.

"Precisely." He caught a glimpse of Shaw through the port hole in the door.

"Shit." Shaw saw them too.

"Run!" Charles said. They dashed along the corridors. "Come on, the elevators are this way!"

They flung themselves in, and Erik began lowering the cage.

"Let us down, let us down!" Charles urged the rather confused looking crewman who manned it. "Quickly!"

The man pulled the lever just as Shaw came around the corner. Erik and Charles began to laugh as the elevator descended. Charles raised a hand and made an obscene gesture at Shaw, laughing even harder as the man's face turned purple.

"Come on!" Erik dragged him left when the doors opened again. "The cargo hold is over here, he won't look over there."

"If you say so." Charles ran after him. The bay was enormous, loaded down with trunks and carriages and anything anyone could possibly want to start a new life in America or to continue their old one. There was even a car there, resting among piles of other boxes. "Erik, look!"

Erik hopped onto the seat. Charles slid into the back, giggling.

"Where to, sir?" Erik asked, tipping his head back.

"Get in here." Charles grabbed him and pulled him back. Erik kissed him, hooking his fingers in Charles's pants and tugging them down ever so slightly. Charles bucked his hips in an invitation.

"Nervous?" Erik asked softly.

"No." Charles murmured. He kissed Erik's finger.

* * *

"_So?_" Kitty asked. "Did they do it?"

"Oh my God, you're like twelve. Stop asking things like that!" Scott said.

"Yes, listen to Scott. But did they?" Jean leaned forward. Scott mirrored her gesture despite himself.

"Your generation." Raven shook her head. "Yes. I am quite sure that my brother lost his virginity to Erik Lensherr in that car."

"How did it happen?" Kitty wiggled. "Like - "

"Miss Pryde." Raven looked at her sternly. "That event was perhaps the first time in my Charles's life that he had some true, sexual, pleasure for himself, after a lifetime of believing that everything his body desired was wrong. The moment belonged to him and Erik, and they alone."

"Sorry." She mumbled, blushing.

* * *

They ended up on deck afterward, laughing. Erik's arm wrapped round Charles's shoulders as they gulped in fresh air, so different from the steamed atmosphere in that car. Erik hoped that whoever actually owned the thing never looked too closely at the stains on the seat.

Charles looked up at the watch. "Erik, do you ever wonder what it's like to be that high up?"

"No." Erik wrapped his arm around Charles's waist. "Never. I hate heights."

"You liar!" Charles shoved him. "You can't have gone to Paris and not been on the Eiffel tower?"

"Just a big building. I was busy in the slums." Erik nuzzled his neck. "And surely you agree that my time there was not entirely wasted?"

"Erik!" Charles laughed. His eyes widened. "_Erik_!"

The iceberg did not so much hit the ship as scrape along the side. Charles staggered, and Erik jerked forward so he was between Charles and the enormous wall of ice. They both stared, wide eyed, as it went past. Ice was sheared off the sides and fell on deck, smashing into tiny bits that sprayed over them both. The entire ship shuddered.

"God." Charles said hoarsely, as soon as it passed. He ran to the side and peered down. "Does it look like we're taking on water?"

"I read an article. There are special chambers built just for this sort of emergency." Erik sounded deeply uneasy despite himself. "But we could check with the crew."

"If we could." They mounted the steps to the crews cabins. Charles stared as he saw them. They were all in motion, but it did not seem to be very organized. The atmosphere was more akin to absolute panic. "We have to go tell my family."

"It's an enormous ship, it can't sink very fast." Erik said. He frowned as he said it, as if doubting his own words.

"Yes, but…" Charles hesitated. "Raven pointed something out to me, and I did some math. There aren't nearly enough lifeboats for everyone."

"Perhaps we should run." They headed for the first class chambers, brushing against Shaw going in the opposite direction. He shot them a nasty look, and Charles found that he could grin back. They met Raven and Emma in the corridor. Both were dressed.

"We have a problem." Charles said urgently.

"We certainly do. Seize him." Emma's ice cold tone cut right through the daze Charles was in. He found himself pushed aside as her man grabbed Erik by the arms, shoving him back against the wall. Raven flung herself onto Charles, embracing him.

"God Charles, what happened! We felt the whole ship shake, I was terrified that you'd fallen across the side…" Charles hugged her back, but his eyes were on Erik, who stared at him with an equally bewildered expression.

"No, no, it's okay, I'm fine. We were on deck, Raven, you have to get off…" He narrowed his eyes at Emma. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Lock him in the brig." Emma ordered. Charles pushed Raven off him and stepped forward.

"_What?_ On what grounds?" She glared at him.

"On the grounds of high theft." She stepped up to Erik, and it seemed to the man that she shot him just the barest hint of a smile as she put her hand in his pocket. She emerged with the enormous blue diamond clutched in her fist.

"Erik…?" Charles said wonderingly.

"I never." Erik said angrily. He pushed against the men holding him. "I _never_ stole that! You planted it on me - "

"At what point?" Emma asked silkily. "I haven't seen you since early this morning and besides, this belongs to my darling fiancée. I don't carry it around."

"Erik couldn't have stolen it." Charles said sharply. "He had no time."

"Perhaps." Emma muttered to him, her voice low. "He got it while you were putting your clothes back on."

Raven glanced from Erik to her brother with wide eyes. She was not nearly so shocked as she perhaps should have been. Charles had gone very pale.

"Charles…." Erik said pleadingly. Charles was frozen as they dragged him away, Shaw leading them. Emma smiled and thrust the diamond into Charles's hand.

"There. And you will present this to me, with all due pomp and ceremony, at our engagement party. And you'll feel lucky that I'm willing to take you." Emma hissed. The threat of ruination was clear in her eyes. Raven clutched her brother's arm.

"Charles, what were you doing?" She whispered. Charles looked at her miserably.

"The ship." He raised his voice. "We all have to get on deck, now. The ship hit an iceberg. I think it's going to sink."

"_What?_" Emma asked. Her eyes widened and she whirled to the maid who stood in the corridor. "You. Fetch me my furs and my soon to be mother in law. _Now!_"

"I'll be right back!" Raven said. She paused. "Charles, I'm going to get my coat from my room. Can I get yours as well?"

"Yes. Yes, I suppose you should." Charles swallowed and pushed himself into motion, walking next to her. His steps quickened as proper awareness returned. "No, no." He shook his head and turned Raven around. "Sweetheart, I came to warn you. Get on deck, get on the first lifeboat that will take you. I'll bring mother and I'll bring our coats, just go!"

"Charles!" Raven cried. He began to run down the corridor.

"There aren't enough lifeboats!" He called back to her. Charles ran to his room, picking up his coat and shoving whatever he prized into the pockets. He spared a second to glance around the room - it was so richly decorated, all in gold - and laugh. All that grandeur, and in hours it would rest beneath the sea.

"Charles?" His mother swayed from her rooms. She stumbled as the boat lurched yet again. Was it Charles's imagination, or did the deck already tip to the right? He fought back the urge to laugh.

"Mother." He wrapped a coat around her shoulders. "Come with me. The ship is sinking."

"What?" She stared at him. Charles hauled her along.

"We have to get to a lifeboat." His mother shook her head. Charles could smell the whiskey on her breath. "Mother, this is not a dream. I am sorry, but it is not."

_By any God in the Heavens, I wish this was a dream. I wish I could wake up at Oxford with no prospects, without an aching backside and with no shattered hopes. _He got her onto the decks.

There, it was chaos. No one seemed to know what was going on, whether they should be afraid of a sinking ship or whether they should have been going back to their rooms and sleeping through a minor problem with the engines. Fireworks exploded above their heads.

Charles did not know how many others recognized them as signal flares, but they added to the din.

"Charles!" Raven yelled. He changed direction, fighting his way through the crowds to her. She was in her coat and had been given a life jacket. Emma was next to her in pure white furs. His fiancée looked altogether untouched by the chaos about her. She reigned above it all, secure in her knowledge that she would get a life boat.

"Come on." Emma said. Her voice was urgent, but not afraid or panicked. "The boats are loading."

"Mother, go on." Charles gently pushed her to the boat. His mother walked up to it. The cold air and fear had made her sober, and she climbed into the lifeboat without a stagger. She did not look back for either of her children.

"Get in." Emma said sharply. "First class passengers first."

"Erik." Charles muttered. He was in the bridge somewhere. The brig would fill with water…God, it was probably already half full.

"Leave the man." Emma snapped. "You know full well he's a criminal."

Charles stared at her. Suddenly, pieces were falling into place.

"You unimaginable bitch." Emma drew back as if she had been slapped. "You didn't plant it. Shaw did."

She looked at him with icy eyes. Raven sucked in her breath. Charles turned away.

"Wait, Charles!" Raven rushed after him.

"I'm sorry, Raven." He stared at her with desperation across his features. "I cannot leave him."

"I know." Charles embraced her, shoving his face into her blonde curls. He breathed deeply, wishing he could her forever safe. Raven clutched back just as desperately, wishing with all her heart she could take him to the boats with her.

"Listen to me." Charles whispered in her ear. "The Xavier money is gone. Mother will try to marry you off next, to any man rich and looking for a connection with old money. Be careful."

He hugged her even tighter for just a second, then released her. Charles kissed her forehead.

"Be brave, big brother." Raven said softly. Charles smiled at her, faintly. "I'll find you after this. I promise, I'll find you."

"I'll be waiting." Charles pushed her away. "Now go."

Raven ran for the lifeboat. She was running uphill. When she looked back, Charles had disappeared, and then she was climbing into the lifeboat while crewmembers shouted orders. Their mother looked out over the waters with a remote expression, and Raven felt a flicker of hate.

* * *

"I didn't do it." Erik said for the eighth time. He had long since given up on convincing Shaw of the fact. The man sat in a chair just outside the door, tossing the keys to Erik's cuffs from hand to hand. Erik supposed he could take it as a mark of respect that Miss Frost considered him ingenious enough that she had to both chain him to a pipe, _and_ leave a man to guard him.

At this point, he was mainly saying the words to remind himself. To remind himself that he had a very compelling reason to get out of here.

Erik sighed and rested his head against the pipe. The handcuffs were exceedingly uncomfortable, and they had chain him so that his entire body was hunched over. Shaw's sadistic grin as that happened was committed to Erik's memory. He was going to kill the man when he was out of here.

There was the faint sound of water splashing. Erik raised his hand and frowned.

It was getting louder. Erik tried to retrace the steps he had taken as he was dragged down here. Were they on the side of the ship which would be going down?

Water began to leak in under the door. Apparently so.

"Listen to me." Erik said to Shaw. "You have to let me out."

"I do believe we've been through this." Shaw smiled lazily, and tossed the keys.

"Have you looked down at your feet?" Erik inquired. Shaw looked down. His boots were awash with water. The man got to his feet, still not looking bothered. "Uncuff me. This has become life and death."

"No." Shaw smiled at him. Erik stared at him, wondering if the man was mad.

"You're a murderer." Shaw shrugged. He put the keys in his pocket and grinned at Erik, walking out. He slammed the door behind him. "You gut rotting, sadistic, murdering, bastard!"

Erik watched as the water level rose, and pulled fruitlessly as the chains.

* * *

"Erik!" Charles shouted. He stared down the stairs. The water was waist deep down there. "Erik!"

No answer. He turned to the crewmember who had guided him down.

"Brig's down there." The member was staring at the water, fear in his eyes growing. "But I doubt you'll find your friend."

"Help me." Charles ordered. The crewmember laughed and began backing up.

"Buddy, that's all the help you're getting. I wouldn't go down there if someone offered me all the gold on this damned boat." Charles glared at him and walked down the steps alone. He gasped as the water touched his ankles.

Erik's description of the cold had, if anything, been mild. Charles gritted his teeth and plunged in. It went up to his waist, making his testicles shrivel and his legs tremble. Charles waded in down the corridors.

"Erik!" He yelled. This entire level seemed deserted. Charles supposed that made sense. Anyone with any brains at all would run the second they felt the touch of this cold water. If was already numbing him, and making it harder to drag his legs forward. "Erik!"

"Charles!" He whirled around.

"Erik!"

"I'm in the cabin!" Charles ran forward as best he could. He pushed open the door. Water washed over his chest, soaking him up to the neck. He gasped at the fresh wave of cold. "You came."

Erik was crouched on a chair with only his knees in the water, awkwardly bent over a pipe. Charles's heart sank to see the chains which fixed him. He smiled at Erik despite them. "Of course."

"How did you know I was innocent?" Erik asked, as Charles began searching for the keys.

"I just realized that I always knew." Charles yanked open a drawer. "And that I did not care either way."

"The keys aren't here." Erik smiled at him as he said it. "Find a crewmember, get their keys. And ah, it would be good if you could hurry."

"Right." Charles splashed back out into the corridor. "Hello?"

There was no answer. There was nothing there but the blue-green water of the Atlantic. It was chest height now.

"Hello!" Charles shouted. "Crew? Anybody?" He looked around wildly. It was quite clear that whatever help they wanted, Erik and he would have to find it on their own. Make their own luck, as it were.

The lights flickered, and Charles saw something glint. He turned. It was half underwater, but there was one of the fire alarms. He could have laughed. They had protected the ship against fire, but never thought that water was a danger.

The irony was not of importance. There was an axe hanging there, it was what had caught the light. Charles swam to it and wrenched it off the wall. He awkwardly swam back to the cabin.

"I got us an axe!" Charles called Erik. Erik smiled.

"Brilliant." It dimmed. "Um. Have you ever used one before? For firewood, or the like?"

"No." Charles admitted. Erik winced.

"Maybe you should practice first." Charles hefted it.

"All due respect, Erik, but that water is a bit too high for practice." He grinned. It was just a tad manic. Charles waded over and swung. Erik turned his head away, quite prepared to feel the bite of metal in one of his wrists. There was a clang.

Erik cracked an eye open. His chains swung free.

"Ha!" Charles laughed. "The next time someone claims I have no skills, I'm telling them I'd make a fantastic woodcutter."

"So you would." Erik slid into the water. He grabbed Charles around the waist and kissed him. Charles kissed back, his eyes closed and his fingers clutching the lapels of Erik's jacket. "Your family?"

"I got them onto the lifeboats." Charles said. He took Erik's hand. "Come on. We have to get out of here."

"Do you know a way?" Charles nodded as they groped their way through the darkened waters. The lights had gone out - it seemed that the water finally shorted out the electric system. Charles had never trusted the fancy things anyway.

"Here, where I came in." They got the steps. Charles stared up at the gate. It was closed, and locked. "But…they wouldn't just lock up the lower decks. They can't, there are people down here."

"I think, Charles, that you have an idealized view of the owners of this ship." Erik turned around. "Follow me."

"Do you know a way out?" Charles swam after him. He was absurdly grateful that Raven had insisted he take swimming lessons with her when they were children.

"No. But I can find one." Erik pushed through another door. They were in the passenger side now, and going up, to where the water didn't have such depth. Erik took Charles's hand and they began to fight through the panicked lower class passengers. Charles didn't even know what language they were speaking.

"Open the exit!" Erik's ears pricked at the sound of the Spanish accent.

"Janos!" He yelled.

"Erik?" Janos was at the top of the stairs. Erik shoved his way up. There was a locked gate there, with yet another terrified looking crewman guarding it. "You're alive?"

"Si." Erik glared at the crewman. "Open the gate!"

"Against orders." The man shook his head. He couldn't have been much more than twenty, with terrified eyes and orange hair that was plastered to his forehead.

"For God's sake, man." Charles said sharply. Janos blinked at him, then Erik. "There are women and children down here. Are they any less human for being poor?" The boy just kept shaking his head.

"We have to get a battering ram, a _something._" Erik muttered. Charles took a deep breath.

_Picture yourself at Oxford. _

"Young man." Charles said, in his most authoritative teaching voice. "Open the gate this instant. I can assure you, your bosses have far greater concerns."

The boy fumbled the keys out of his pocket. Charles smiled grimly as he nearly dropped them, then managed to insert a large one in the lock. Erik wrapped an arm around Charles's waist.

"Have I mentioned today that you are stupendous?" He murmured in Charles's ear.

"Once or twice, under different circumstances." Charles whispered back. The doors clanged open, and they were running down the corridor, at the head of the mob. "Come on, we have to get on deck!"

"I doubt they have extra lifeboats!" Erik led the stampede up the stairs.

"No, but the water will flood this entire level before long!" Charles called back. They burst onto the deck, and slumped against the sides of the cabin, watching the steerage passengers flood the decks. Their hands were still linked.

"Impressive." Charles jerked. Emma was on deck. The furs she was wrapped in still had not been dirtied, and the only change was that her form was disfigured by a lifejacket. She raked them with her eyes. "Charles, we can still get on the boats."

"No." Charles shook his head. "Erik wouldn't be allowed."

"I." Emma took a deep breath, enunciating each word. "Am. Your. _fiancée._"

"My dear?" Charles stepped forward. He offered her a gentle smile. "I would rather sodomize with him in the depths of hell than be your husband."

Emma's nostrils flared as Erik began to laugh. She stalked away. Erik kept laughing.

"We should find life jackets." He said, still chuckling.

* * *

"Shaw!" Emma snapped. Her man was standing by the lifeboats, holding her place.

"Yes?" He asked. Emma took a deep breath.

"My engagement, it seems, has been terminated." Something ugly flickered in his eyes. "Xavier has the Heart of the Ocean in his pocket. If you want it, the gem is yours." She climbed into a lifeboat. "I certainly don't need it. I have enough diamonds already."

Shaw cocked his gun.

* * *

Erik pulled Charles through. The first class dining rooms were empty. All the expensive plate and silverware still rested on the tables. No one was bothering to loot, not as the ship itself sank. Possessions would only weigh them down.

A shot rang out.

"Down!" Erik shouted. Charles was pulled with him as another shot hit.

"Shaw." Charles said. Erik growled.

"I do believe that man is insane."

"What could he possibly want with us now?" Charles crawled along the floor next to Erik. "He should save himself!"

"Lets concentrate on that ourselves, yeah?" Erik said. He kept crawling. "We can't go below decks."

The next shot made bits of wooden shrapnel fly past Charles's right eye.

"I really don't think we have a choice!" Charles scrambled to his feet and bolted down, diving down the staircase. He hit icy water and swam, Erik coming up next to him and outpacing him the next instant, taking the lead. The German was a better swimmer than he.

"Damn." Erik surfaced with a gasp once they had turned down another corridor. Charles followed suit, his lungs burning. "He's probably sitting at that gate and waiting for us to show up there. I cannot believe you hired that lunatic as your lawyer."

"It was my mother." Charles said wryly. "Any ideas?"

"Swim away from the bow." Erik said. Charles sighed. Erik snorted. "My plans, Charles, are best known for the improvised bits."

"If you say so." Charles squeezed Erik's hand and set off again. Erik kept leading, always towards the stern. There were no drowned bodies, which Charles supposed was a good sign.

"There. What did I say, a gate." Erik said. Charles smiled at him. The thing was bashed open, as if some other passengers had done as Janos suggested and used a battering ram. "I told you, I always know how to find my way through a twisted road."

"Of course." They ran for the decks.

Charles stared at the masses around them. There was no hope of a life boat now. Erik had to keep holding his hand or they would surely be separated, as the teeming crowds of people milled around. Charles had to fight to keep his footing, the deck was so tipped.

"Come on!" Erik tugged at his hand. "To the stern, come on!"

They ran upward, slipping and sliding. People all around them were falling down, or leaping off the ship. Charles caught a glimpse of Ironback Logan, standing atop a lifeboat with a few other men, chopping the ropes which held it in place.

They reached the railing just in time. Charles grabbed it and laughed wildly. Erik helped him climb atop it, so that both knelt far above the ship, staring straight down as people slipped into the ocean.

"Erik, this is where we met!" Erik looked down. The water seemed a hundred feet below them.

"Tell me Charles, do you think you can see the lands you dream of from here?" Charles looked at him.

"All I have to dream of is here within my sight." Charles moved to him.

"Charles…"

"Erik my love, do you really think, at this point, anyone cares?" Erik took his hands off the railings to wrap round Charles and kiss him. They kissed while people screamed and children drowned, in the midst of the most inconceivable event.

Erik pulled back first.

"When the ship goes down, kick for the surface." He said softly. "And don't go far. We have to stay together."

"I know." Charles smiled. "You jump, I jump." He took a deep breath.

* * *

"Good God in Heaven." Raven whispered. Her lifeboat was well away. It was far enough to see the ship completely vertical, with tiny bodies flying away from it. Her mother said nothing.

* * *

Water closed over them. Charles kicked frantically, as Erik's hand was pulled from his and suddenly he was in the ocean, while people thrashed around him. A small foot kicked his knee, a hand smacked the back of his head. Charles wind milled his arm, trying desperately for the surface.

He made it with a gasp. Charles sucked in breath, whipping his head about for Erik. Those who had made it were all around him, all screaming, all shouting for help.

"Erik!" He shouted.

"Charles!" Erik had found a piece of wood - it looked rather like a chunk of an elaborate doorframe - and was hanging on to it. Charles splashed over, pushing out of his way a man who had already gone silent.

"I'm here." Charles splashed up to him. Erik smiled at him.

"Get on." Erik nodded to it. Charles scrambled atop it, shivering. The night air was fractionally warmer than the ocean. Erik grabbed the edge and made to vault up. The door tipped dangerously, almost spilling Charles into the water. "Dammit."

"Fine." Charles slid back into the water. Erik stared at him. "Erik. We are in this together, for better or worse."

"In sickness and in health?" Erik asked, his lips twitched. Charles laughed.

"As long as we both shall live." He groped inside his jacket a moment, bringing out a package. Erik cocked his head. "My journal."

"You keep one?" Erik asked. Charles smiled.

"I wanted to be a writer, didn't I?" He flipped it open. The pages were soaked, but legible. Charles managed to procure a pen from his pocket and uncapped it with his teeth. "I have a last entry to make."

* * *

"We have to go back." Raven said angrily. She tugged at one of the oars. "All of you, come on! We have to go back!"

"The water's not calm enough." The crewmember who manned their boat looked at her sadly. "Ma'am, we'll tip over if we do."

"Bullshit!" There were a few muted gasps from on the boat. "Nothing moves in that water except for people, innocent people. My _family_ might be in that water!" Raven turned to her mother. "Mother?"

"Listen to the crewman." Her mother mumbled. She was staring at the dark waters, looking at nothing.

"You…you spineless drunkard." Raven stood at the side and stared at the hundreds of little white dots. She could see one boat with a bright light, not far from them. "Hey! Hey!"

"What?" The boat was coming towards them. Raven saw that it had very few people in it. A redhead crewman. A couple of men from steerage. It was captained by Logan Ironback, standing at the helm in his soaking wet tuxedo as if he couldn't even feel the night air.

"Are you the rescue boat?" She called.

"Yes." Logan peered at them. "You ladies come too. There's more than enough space in your boat for more."

"They won't." Raven cast a scornful glance over her shoulder at the lot of them. She took a flying leap and landed in Logan's boat. She stood proud. "My name is Raven Xavier, and I think my brother is back there."

"Glad to have you aboard." Logan nodded to her. "Grab an oar."

The waters were perfectly still when they reached them. She heard Logan groan as he looked out on them. There wasn't a bit of movement. There were only floating bodies, all blue faced, with frost over their lips and in their hair.

"Charles!" She screamed. Raven's voice had gone hoarse. "Charles!"

"I doubt your brother's out there." Logan said softly. "He might have taken another lifeboat."

"He wouldn't." Raven leaned over the edge of the boat as they drifted through the masses. "Charles!"

"Ma'am…" She glimpsed something. A hint of chocolate brown hair.

"Charles!" She screamed. "That way! Go that way!"

"Nothing there." Logan said gently. "Little lady, there's no one alive."

"Fuck you." Raven spat at him. She jumped over the edge and swam to them. "Charles?"

Her brother was still beautiful. He bobbed up and down as she came to him, but he did not move. He was in the arms of Erik Lensherr. Charles's head was tucked under Erik's chin, Erik's arms around him. Frost had settled over both of them, coating their faces. Charles's eyes, still bright blue, were open. His lips had gone from ungodly pink to a soft shade of purple.

"Oh, Charles…" Raven whispered. She could hear the splash as Logan took the boat and followed her. She could see his notebook, open on the piece of wood that was too fragile to hold them both. Raven swam closer to pick it up, off the doorframe. The pages crackled as she shut it.

"Little lady?" Logan asked. He didn't seem perturbed at her brother's final resting pose. "We can take his body back."

She guessed that he would not have said that for most.

"No." Raven kissed her brother's icy forehead. "Let them stay together. Just…please, let them stay together, let them stay happy, oh please…"

"Hush. We'll do it as you wish. There'll be prayers aplenty said for them in churches round the world, don't you worry for their souls." Logan bent down and hauled her out of the water, wrapping her in a blanket. They had plenty to spare. Raven huddled there clutching the journal, feeling her tears turn to icicles.

* * *

"I didn't go back." Raven said quietly. She was back on a proper boat, not a lifeboat manned only by a few brave men and women. "To my mother, I mean. Logan got us to one of the boats that came too late to rescue the Titanic, and I told them my name was Darkholme, not Xavier."

"Jesus." Jean's hands were over her mouth.

"I don't know what happened to Sebastian Shaw. I hope very much that he died." Raven sighed. "Logan Ironback, as nearly everyone knows, came out on top during the depression - did you know, everyone thought he was crazy for not trusting the banks and keeping his money with him? He managed to most all of his employees working through the 30s. Emma Frost, to the best of my knowledge, married some tycoon. He jumped from a window during the depression, and she disappeared." Raven's mouth twisted up. "I like to imagine her as a go-go dancer."

"God." Scott shivered. "I can't believe neither of them survived."

"I believe that Charles knew he wasn't coming out of it alive." Raven said softly. "I realized it before I even started reading his journal, back when Logan was ordering the lifeboat to be turned around one more time, just in case we missed any survivors."

"Why?" Kitty tilted her head to the side.

"I got shoved to the side, so my weight was on one of my thighs. It was just where the pocket in my coat was." Raven laughed a bit. "Charles gave me the best insurance to seek my own fortune he possibly could. He put that damned diamond in my pocket when he put me on a lifeboat."

"_What?"_ Scott yelped.

"Yes. My college education. A good home for my children, for my children's children." She put a hand on Kurt's arm. "Harvard for my grandchildren. All from a rock the size of my fist."

"Wow." Scott leaned back. His face was blank. "Just…wow."

"That's a better purpose than any of us were going to put it to." Jean said suddenly. "I think your brother was smart. Providing for a huge family is far better than just being in some museum. Scott?" She looked at him.

"Actually…yeah." Scott sighed. "I don't know what I'll tell our investors, but I don't think we should have done all this for a rock. Not when there was so much else on the Titanic that means more."

"You can tell the investors you found it." Raven said. Jean, Scott, Kurt, and Kitty all stared at her. "Charles was brilliant, for sure, but he always underestimated me. I never went to college. I went across the country. I went to India, and Africa, living off my wits." She smiled. "I think Erik would have been proud."

"You didn't liquidate it?" Kurt looked aghast.

"No. I met your grandfather, the original Vonnegut." Raven shook her head, chuckling. "He was an exceedingly wise circus performer, who managed to convince me that I should stop running. He reminded me of Charles, in a way." She sighed. "I was a nurse, in the first world way, and he was rushed into my infirmary because they thought he'd broken his back. When he woke up, he informed me that he was just that bendy, and we married after the war ended. We scraped by for awhile, and eventually…" Raven laughed. "Well, we were both capable. We made our way, off his army pension and what I earned as a performer. Dear old Az…and then my children all managed to provide for themselves."

"Wow." Kitty and Kurt both said.

"I kept it in my brother's memory." Her hand went to her pocket. Scott made a choking sound as it emerged with the gem. It still managed to capture all the light in the room, just as it had when rooms were lit by coal and gas. "I think he would want your team to have it, Mr. Summers. Your team of dreamers."

"Thank you." Scott let her put it in his hand. "We…we should put it in some kind of exhibit…"

"Name it in memorial to Charles Xavier and Erik Lensherr, would you?" Raven smiled gently. "No one but me remembers them, and I'm not sure how long I'll be here."

**A/N: Characterizations of Kurt/Scott/Jean/Kitty were actually drawn more from X-Men Evolution than the movies, if anyone cares. So…who wants to review? Please?**


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